


Flock's Folly

by CaptKane



Series: Fox in sheep's clothing [2]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptKane/pseuds/CaptKane
Summary: After a harsh Monday, Harvey takes a trip to an unfamiliar mall.





	Flock's Folly

A few days have passed already even though it feels like it was just yesterday, I haven’t left my apartment since then. Usually -- this is normal for me, and I’m ok with this, but I’ve been sitting in front of an unplugged TV for about two hours and I feel like I’m going nuts. Even Hank’s shitty jokes and bad temperament is a welcomed guest; fuck I’ll even take some more insults over being alone. 

Maybe I’ll walk around the block, I need some fresh air anyway. 

I reach for my sweater even though is a cool seventy-four out on the streets. Strangely, I get cold really fast when I’m nervous and seeing how my week started off, I’m worried about dying of hypothermia. As sexy as I am, I can’t go out in just my boxers and just a sweater, but at the same time, the only clean thing I have to put on is an ugly pair of gray dress slacks. 

After a moment of consideration, I put them on. I suddenly get a strange surge of excitement throughout, now I know what I’m doing today. 

I retrieve my wallet from my literal sweatpants and make sure I have all the cards ‘n’ cash required for a journey outside, and make my way across my living-room. Sometimes I get tired of looking a garbage and I spend a couple of hours cleaning. I mean, if I just would tidy up after myself it wouldn't get this -- trashy. Maybe I’m just lazy. (or trashy) 

I put my ear to my door and my ears probe -- nothing. That means the coast is clear for me to leave, not like I’d have much trouble anyway, most of the residents are occupied with work or sleep, not a lot of time to annoy me in the halls. Unless their name is Hank. 

I pass Hank's door. He’s most definitely still asleep, not like he’d be any help when it comes to looking for clothing, or anything useful for that matter. He’s about as sharp as me when it comes down to it. 

I trek down the familiar dimly-lit flight of stairs I always walk to get down to the main lobby. The place is pretty bare, just a small always-locked office that looks as if someone could sell tickets out of, and a wall of mailboxes. 

Too bad with all these lock-boxes, mine seems to be the only one that doesn't fucking lock. I’ve “politely” sent requests to the maintenance guy, but I guess he doesn't know how to read. For the most part, I’ve been using Hank’s mailbox for the small amount of mail I receive weekly.

After walking out of the lobby to the sidewalk, I take a few seconds to adjust to the afternoon sun. Then it hits me, I don’t have a clue where I’d go to get some new “threads”. I should've done some basic research before walking out of the dinginess my apartment and into the domesticated wild.

Well, it’s not too late to do some quick research on my computer I guess. I run back up the flight of stairs I just descended only a moment ago. 

As I round the last corner, my head collides with something. It only took me about a second to realize that “something” was a someone. 

I start to apologize “shit I’m sorr…”, but then I realize it’s Hank’s roommate. I really didn’t expect her to stick around for more than a week, well the day is still young -- I can’t doubt the shittiness of Hank that easily. 

“Oh you’re the fox from across the way.” she says while I’m still trying to rub the pain away. 

Well, I guess I can check ramming off my possible attacks, she doesn't look fazed at all.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you coming.” she says, holding out her hands like she’d just killed me. 

“I’m actually pretty tall for a fox.” I say bluntly, straightening out my back from its normal slouch, like it’s goting to change what she thinks. 

She dawned a look of confusion and then replaced it with an easy chuckle “I guess Hank was right about the teenage attitude” giving me a smile like one a kid would receive after scraping his knee or breaking his favourite toy.

I was racking my head trying to come back with something, but they all only furthered her comment. So much for foxes being clever, shit maybe she’s right. 

“Well I don’t want to bother you anymore,” she says quickly, before I have a chance to break the silence. “I bet you’re pretty tired; I know hank gets uncanny when I bother him in the morning.” she says, speedily. She must need to get somewhere, or she wasn’t expecting to literally run into me. To be fair, I woulden’t want to hang around with me either. 

Although she’s is right about being up during daytime hours, but I don’t really have a choice when my College only has diurnal classes. It’s not really a big deal anyway, the night was really giving me bad “vibes” after Monday. It's better to sleep than to worry. 

She starts to walk down the stairs then stops abruptly with the rush she was in momentarily forgotten. 

“Oh, I never caught your name.” she asks craning her head back, waiting for a response. 

“It’s Harvey.” I say carelessly while unlocking my door. 

I’m going to leave it at that. No need to get invested.

After slipping inside, I ready my computer for quick search. Zoogle Maps gives me good look at the neighborhood; apparently, there's a pretty significant mall off of Flock street that I’ve never picked up on. It’s quite a walk if I’m going to be footing it, or I could take the tram, but that’s a ton of unwanted contact. 

I mean, I have only been living here for close to five months already and it’s ultimately not half-bad. If I really wanted to I could move somewhere like Lionheart ave, albeit I’d only be there for half a year before I was flat broke. 

I had a couple places in mind when shopping for a new hole-in-the-wall; Pack, Troop, and Flock.

It was a no-brainer knocking Flock off my list. A fox moving into a neighbourhood with a high population of sheep is just begging for fucking trouble. 

Troop was the ideal area for me because of the low crime rate and nicer apartments, but after a quick tour of the block, I wasn’t interested. I’m a sucker for older downtown buildings and neighbourhoods, They just have a weird charm I can’t resist, but the people? not so much. Pack is the middle of the spectrum not too richy and suburban and yet isn’t a huge dump like Trip ST.

After looking over the directions to the mall, I set out towards the complex tram system. If I do buy anything It’s going to be easier to carry back than by lugging it all the way home. 

The station is full of prey and preds alike, boarding the different coloured cars assigned to the aptly-named districts. I ready my senses to be attacked by all the different smells and sounds. I’d normal shutter when thinking of public transit but Zootopia’s system is so well maintained I might as well be on a luxury liner. 

I pass the large glowing sign that tells what goes where; I don’t need to look, I already know I’m going to be taking the inner loop. The amount of seats they can stuff in this place without making it look like a furniture store is admirable. It being mid-day, I’m not likely to sit down on one of them anyway. 

After purchasing a ticket, I take a lean on a pillar nearby the route board so I can eye the times. I doubt it’s going to be longer than 15 minutes. I close my eyes to escape just for a moment hoping time move just a little faster. 

“This is fucking ridiculous” Gripes a well-groomed zebra standing idly in front of the ticket booth, flicking his curiously natural-striped mane back and forth. He’s holding a briefcase big enough for me to fit inside. 

“Sir, I can’t promise anything sooner than half an hour.” says the irked sow on the other side of the booth. 

“I needed to be a Glacier falls 30 minutes ago.” He says sharply, throwing one of his massive free hooves into the air. but still retaining his calm, classy composure. 

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t run the cars. Are are you going to buy a ticket or not?” she says flatly tapping her pen on the desk with increasing intensity. I see a strange divet in the wood of the table; she must operate at this station during the work rush. 

After finally buying a ticket, and passing all the angry faces behind him. He cements himself in front of the schedule board, essentially blocking my view. It’s not important anyway I’ve only got a few more minutes before mine arrives anyway. 

I notice the ticket locked in his hand has the words “Inner loop” printed in purple. This guy got something important to do compared to my venture to the mall. I crane my neck over, seeing my car flash on the time board and a few seconds later it arrives in all its huge metallic glory. I let out a sigh and walk over the well-dressed zebra knowing this is going to hurt more than I want. 

“No, I don’t want to buy anything,” he says, belittling me before I could begin to speak. Not even takin’ the time to look at me -- damn.

“Then you’re just the guy I’m looking for!” I say sarcastically, trying to put on my best shady salesman impersonation, but It just comes out awkward and pretty embarrassing. It’s hard for me to hold a fake smile after that lovely introduction. 

After seeing his brow raised in confusion, I know Humor isn’t going to work on this striped, humorless brick wall. 

“I’m just messing with you man, I saw you were running late -- I was wondering if you wanted my ticket,” I say, holding out my ticket for him to see. His mysterious eyes grow sharp when he spots the ticket in my relatively-small paw.

He studies the ticket, looking for unwarranted marks or flaws that would signify it was false. Then he shifts to me with an almost unbearable, awkward inspection with his deep brown eyes. 

“It just pulled up too,” I say, trying to seal the deal, even though I’m not trying conning him. 

He retorts with “how much do you want for it?” readying his wallet with ease. 

I didn’t expect yes, let alone such a fluid response. I was already lining up a defense or explanation for “selling” the ticket. 

I let out a nervous chuckle “I don’t want any money, but -- I do need to get somewhere.” I move my pale, normal-looking eyes to his ticket, hoping he’ll get my uncertain hint. 

A boarding ding ran across the station, adding more much-needed pressure to the situation. We swapped tickets with easy then he gave me a more than awkward hoof-shake and quickly made his way to the departing tram, his thick glorious tail streaming behind him. 

I let out a weird anxiety-ridden sigh of relief. If there was only more of us helping people out, we wouldn't get such a bad reputation. 

After around twenty-six minutes my new train arrives. I place my ticket into the machine and I walk to some of the smaller seating on the tram. I initially take a seat away from the other passengers, but I soon find myself sitting next to complete strangers of all sizes and species.

Most of them hesitate to sit next to me but with the tram filling, they don't have a choice.

The trip to Flock was quick and easy, like most things of this nature should be. I’m greeted with a more than a well-managed neighbourhood. There’s a lot more greenness here than Pack, but I’m not complaining, it’s a pleasant change from brick and spray-paint that I’m accustomed too. The entire block is surrounded by a grassy smell riding through the air, even when there’s no grass in sight. 

Now I have to figure out what sub-street this mall is on; from the pictures online, I can tell this massive place isn’t going to be hard to spot. Walking around this community gives me a good feeling, like I can go anywhere or do anything without the worry of being harmed or alternately, walking in on some shady dealings from equaly shady people. 

drifting around on the streets and peering into the small shops and markets, makes me feel like a tourist in my own city; the urge to walk into all the shops to see what sheepish goods I can get my hands on is almost overpowering but after some consideration -- I don’t really think a wool-salon will do any good for my short fur. 

I didn’t eat this morning and it’s really coming back on me. Looking around these shops I come to realize, a lot of this food is grass and hay based, I for one am not a fan of eating leaves and sticks. I’m betting there’s going to be more universal food options when I finally get around to finding where this mall is -- but for now, I’m going to enjoy the scenery and lovely, grassy smell!

I finally stop dragging my feet, looking at all the small shops and make my way to the bigger prize -- the mall. All along my right is a pretty sizeable central park. Sometimes I think it would be relaxing to retire into a nice shady spot under one of these big trees and take a nap in the grass. In reality, I’d be taking a nap with hundreds of nasty weird bugs and getting a rash from laying down in all the moist grass. 

The mall’s main entrance is extravagant and screams the twenty-first century’s weird engineering, well maybe it or baas if you get my drift. It’s not even the nicest block around, I wonder what other great gems I can find on the richer parts of the city. 

I’ll save that for another day like most things. not like I’d be welcomed with the most open of arms anyway. 

I pass the statues guarding the entrance (Well, statuettes for some) and prepare myself for all the glory that’s to be found in a big mall like this. After proceeding in and seeing all the people I can feel a deep, heavy feeling in my chest spreading up to my throat. I quickly divert my eyes to the nearest shop and make my way over to it. I let out a few long breaths to calm myself down and I’m feeling back to normal within a few breaths. 

I didn’t even look at the name of the place before I walked into it; it’s making itself clear the more shelves I inspect.

I’m seriously surprised how many wool-care products are available to sheep; they have straighteners, curlers, conditioners, regrowth creams, and all other wacky goods targeted towards wooly folk. My personal favourite is the aisle dedicated to wool dye, I couldn't resist letting out a laugh thinking about bright coloured sheep. The ram at the counter was already giving me a weird look, now he probably thinks I’m nuts. 

As I was walking out he asks “Did you find everything alright?” his flat-toothed smile let me know he too, found it ridiculous. 

“Ya man, I was just looking around.” I say, resisting the tug of another fit of laughter. 

This place is packed with shops clubs and foreign eateries, I’ll run out of time going into them individually even if I only stick to the shops, so I better start selecting stores that are more tailored to my needs; and I can’t forget why I’m here. 

Due to the nature and locale of this mall, most of these shops are prey oriented. The good thing about clothing, it doesn't matter what you eat or where you live, clothing stays the same. well I say the same -- size does matter and right now I’m seeing shops with sizes sheep-plus. As much as I’d like to say, I’m not even as tall or wide as some sheep. 

If I can’t find anything for me, I might be settling for a new baggy style. 

I cross over to the other side of the complex skipping all the stands selling miscellaneous items like phone repairs, wooden figurines, snake oil, and other assorted garbage of that nature. I even spotted a stand selling fruit, which I actually might check out later if I have the time or feeling like eating healthy.

I make my way to a larger looking store with mannequins, concealed behind two huge glass windows. Now, this place looks like they’d have something relevant to my size. The mannequins are dressed top and bottom in the latest appeal the fashion gods. I’m not really into any of that, especially after looking at the price. 

I have no clue where to start with all of this. Well, I actually take that back, there are some signs overhead that separate both sides of the store that read, “large mammal” and small mammal”. But still, looking through even half this place is too much for me. 

I drag my feet towards the racks and shelves marked “male” for obvious reasons of course, past all the sequin-clad tank tops, shirts, and pants of the opposing gender. Being decked out in gold ‘n’ glitter is silly, and way more attention than I need. The men's section is a lot less Glam-rock when it comes to colour and sparkle, maybe even too tame. As much as I love the colour grey, I don’t think my fur tone is on the same boat as me. 

It’s going to be getting colder out due to seasonal changes and I don’t think the combined forces of a single sweater and my coat is going to keep me safe from the supposed “harsh winter” that’s coming. I’m probably going to pick up a sweater even if I don’t wear it. I’m no going to get decked out in winter gear just to die of heatstroke. 

After filing through an endless array of hoodies from black to pink, I spot a colour that I feel I could pull off. It’s a dark reddish-pink and I’m really digging the look -- too bad it doesn't fit, I also take a hasty look over where all pants are hung and placed out for display, and it gave me the same results. Yep, and I’m in the smallest end of the men's section too. 

I’m glad my hopes of finding something was already pretty low, I still have the girls section to look through before they’re completely crushed. 

A quick look in the “Jackets” section revealed a deeper section of... well… jackets! I try on the same hoodie only a few sizes smaller and, unlike most things, I’m happy with the fit. A denim aviators jacket catches my eye as I’m walking across the aisle. Well, not the jacket, but what’s sown around the collar for aesthetic and function. After I pull myself for a closer inspection, I can tell it’s faux fur. 

From the look and familiar feel, I can tell it’s meant to mimic that of a fox. 

I know a lot of activists, and foxes, don’t like this stuff being on clothing or stand-alone for weird art projects. I think it’s uncanny but I’m not totally against it, like milk comes from cows and wool from sheep so I guess it’s fair if they want to have a little fox fur on their bodies for warmth or style. Maybe I can use it for a substitute until my winter coat comes in . . . . nope. 

“Hey excuse me, mam.” I hear a voice behind me say. 

I turn around on my heels, my hands releasing the coat I was fondling. I’m now facing awkwardly towards another fox. She’s been doing some heavy shopping, from the look of her arms which are being used as a substitute clothes rack. She’s a little smaller than me, not counting ears, and she’s sporting a thick coat of snow white fur. Man, that’s gotta be fun in the summer. 

“Are you going to buy that?” she asks, bluntly, pointing one of her manicured claws towards the jacket I had my paws on. Her light blue eyes shift off of me towards the object in question with a cool, confident, elegance, while still retaining her original blunt demeanor. 

“No, I was just looking at it.” I say calmly reply, moving out of the way so she can add it to her ever-increasing stack of clothing. I’m not going to pick a fight over clothing I’m never going to wear. 

“Oh shit, I didn’t see you were a guy.” she says in revelation, reaching for the jacket and moving her voice into the nicer-side of the spectrum. I see a shrewd smile replace her previous look of embarrassment.

“. . . So are you a cross-dresser or something?” she ripostes nonchalantly, trying to keep her ever-creeping smile at bay. 

“N... No?” I stammer. 

“Oh..,” she draws out, looking through the rack of clothing in front of her, she purposely drops her smile as if she dropped interest, but I can tell that’s not the end of it. 

“So you’re just a perv then” she quips in the same breezy tone, her eyes swaying back to me. The only response I have is to stare back, wordless. 

This is one of the main reasons I don’t go out that often. I can understand her confusion, from my natural eyeshadow and the fact foxes aren’t know for being really “curvy” there’s bound to be some confusion from other species, but from another fox? I don’t think so. At this point, I have no clue what game she’s playing, but that doesn't matter -- I’ve already lost.

“Well, look I’m just…” I began to reason, holding my paws out defensively like I’d been accused of murder; surprisingly I’m cut off by a sudden stream of natural laughter, adding to the confusion.

“Man, tough crowd tonight right?” she says with a genuine smile, comically pulling on her collar and looking around at a non-existent audience. “Not even a smile? You can’t be that cold” she solicits. 

I let out a deep, annoyed whine. trying my best to connect the dots in my head. I really don’t want to deal with this right now, I could just walk away without a word and take the tram back home. 

I guess that was taking too long or she could read my thoughts because the smile on her face dropped its intensity, and her body shifted to a more sympathetic stance. 

“Did I hit home. . . or?” she says cautiously, her carefree grin switching into a subtle worrying look. 

“Hmm, maybe a little bit of both.” I mumble, rubbing the softer light coloured fur on my stomach.

The awkwardness is only amplified after every increasing second. 

“Well I can’t keep you entertained all day.” she says, correcting her failed attempt at humor, (Or my failed perception of it) clapping her paws together and shifting her weight to one of her hips. 

As she passed by my shoulder I could feel her bushy tail uncomfortably close against mine and I swear I could hear her say “Have a good one, Hervey.” 

I’m really not going to give it much thought; foxes are weird -- trust me I know. 

I after finally taking my eyes off the ground and snapping back to reality, I make my way towards where the smaller sized pants are, I find a few pairs of light blue jeans that surprisingly fit me well. They’re just a bit tight in a certain area, but I think that’s because I'm used to sweats. 

The tigress at the counter doesn't even bat an eye at my selection, she must be used to this sort of thing. 

After checking out I feel satisfied, I actually did something remotely adult-like today, too bad my stomach doesn't agree with the mood. I’m sure this place has a food court one way or another. Maybe I’ll be trying grass today. 

I’m considering calling it a day but I’m already out here and I’ve only been gone four hours.  
Fuck it -- I’ll just look around some more, I need to absorb more local culture anyway. 

Walking around to my next stop gives me some time to think and reflect. But the only thing I can think about is the weird encounter I just had. It keeps looping over in my head telling me what I should have said in hindsight. But notice something strange thinking back to it; She never picked up the jacket. 

Maybe I’m thinking too deep, I’m hungry and I wasn’t thinking straight. She probably picked it up and I didn’t even notice. Uhh, why do I do this to myself? I need a distraction. 

I brightly lit up store catches my eye, and at this point, I’m just wondering around like an idiot, waiting for an excuse to walk into one of these stores; I just need something to take my mind off all this.

Just before I’m about to walk in, I hear a wolf whistle -- and it’s directed towards me. Oh man, I hope I don’t get verbally raped again, or physically for that matter. You can’t mistake me for a girl twice in one day. I snap around quickly hoping to give my aggressor a cold stare. Only to face a figure with white fur and rose-tinted shades perched atop his snout -- fuck it’s Hank. 

At this point, he already knows I’ve seen him and there's no use walking away. He’s strangely dressed in black slacks, a white long sleeve shirt rolled up to his elbows, and a black tie looped around his belt instead of his neck. I almost didn’t recognize him without the jacket he’s always got on. 

But I don’t recognize the ferret next to him. He’s also wearing the same type of white shirt, albeit with a lot more stains and wrinkles. A black-tie hangs around his greasy dome like a fucking bandana. 

 

I overhear the ferret’s conversation as I get closer. “I thought you said we’re going night clubbin’. This plan you got is wack. It’s going to take forever, man.”

Hank puts his sizeable paw to the bridge of his nose and gives out a comical sigh while shaking his head. 

“Have you looked outside lately -- can’t go nightclubbing with no fucking night.” Hank says, almost knocking his shady companion it the head with a wide swing of his arm. 

“Look, we’ll head out as soon we’re done here.” he says reassuring the eager ferret. 

“This the kid you were talking about right? Man, why’d you bring me along -- you coulda just had him help you out.” He drawls, taking a sharp toothy yawn.

“No!” Hank snaps, his golden eyes peer exasperatedly through a layer of rose glass. “Naw he can join us after.” he says, correcting his previous response and easing his posture.

“Ahem” I clear my throat and give him the coldest stare I can muster. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? I’ve got shit to do.” I say, even though I was already planning my trip home 

“Wha? oh ya, so me and Iggy are hitting the town tonight. You wanna join us?” he responds coolly. 

I’m curious about what Hank’s idea of a “hitting the town” is. I’ve rarely ever hung out with him, but everybody thinks he’s a blast, so I guess it won’t hurt to play along. And as I’ve said before, I need to get out; the more I’m around others, the less time I’m left alone to my thoughts. 

“Ok, I guess I’ll go” I say, inspecting the sack of clothes to my side. Good chance to give my new apparel a test drive too.

Hank’s ears perked up with excitement. almost dropping the piece of licorice out of his mouth. 

“Good, I’ll be knocking on your door at ten.” He gives me a good look over “I’d give you one of my shirts, but I don’t think I wanna ever see you in a dress. So find something better to wear will ya?” 

The ferret gives off a loud sigh and Crosses his arms, giving his “friend” an over-irate look. “Are we ever going to fucking do this.” looking back at the building he’s leaning on. 

“Oh, ya right.” he says, -- like he’d actually forgotten what he was doing. Hank gives me a quick nod “Talk to you later kid.” 

Hank opens the door to the shady club he was taking a lean on, he waves his hand out letting his friend pass through first, like he was being courteous to a lady. His friend gives an annoyed sigh, but still stomps his way through. He gives one last smile then disappears into a sea of head-throbbing music. 

After making my way out of the mall, I’m greeted with a waning day that’s soon to be night. Being inside that mega-mall I forgot how relaxing Flock is. I’m seriously considering walking home. Taking the tram showed me really how tight this city is; I guess if someone was fit and motivated enough, they could get anywhere around here. 

After a relaxing walk back to my apartment, (that’s more that can be said about last time.) I walk up the singular stairwell to where my apartment resides. After unlocking my door I get hit by... well, a pretty raw smell. I guess cleaning this place top to bottom isn’t good enough -- I’ll open a window while I’m out. 

I have a couple of hours to kill and my venture to the mall has left me feeling like a canidae trashcan; I smell like one too. I’m not sure how long I can stretch a shower into but I’m going to shoot for an hour. I opt for only using water in lieu of my normal fur shampoo, I can only use it weekly due to it giving me a nasty itch. It doesn’t help I’m using the cheapest stuff I could find. 

Stepping out of the shower I feel strangely alert and energized, strange for a pred switching over to a diurnal sleep schedule. I just hope I’m not resetting all the hard work I’ve put into it.  
I pass my kitchen and go straight to my room, I’m not even going to bother looking for something to eat when the only thing in my cupboard is a box of crackers. Maybe a spider too if I look hard enough. 

I fall into my nest of blankets and prepare myself for a quick nap. If I’m going to be out all night I need to get at least 4 hours of sleep. Hitting my head makes me realize how much I took my old bed for granted. for once I actually miss something back home, I'm sure it’s going to be the last. Even with my whole day running on repeat in my head, I still manage to fall asleep without much trouble. 

A systemic knock on my door jars me awake and, for a minute I’m really pissed. Who would wake me up this early in the morning? but I’m only left feeling stupid after I take a glance at the barely visible stars looming overhead, almost instantly remembering the plans I’d made only four hours prior. 

I get up with a stretch and yawn, feeling more tired than before I initially lied down. Massaging the pain out of the muscle along my spine to the base of my tail gives me yet another reason for getting a bed instead of my not-so-cozy floor. 

After struggling to get my new hoodie on while a pair of jeans hangs around my ankles, almost tripping me while I make my way towards the siege at my front door. Another knock reminds me Hank’s growing impatient. Still pulling up my fly, I swing open my door to face the wolf of the hour. 

He’s got on a fierce smile and strange enigmatic glint in his eyes, peering down at me through a sea of rose glass. He’s still wearing the same outfit with the addition of his leather jacket. 

I can already tell, tonight’s going to be fun.


End file.
